


It's My Fault, I Know I'm Selfish

by cracklesnaple



Series: the fall of a hero [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Betrayal, Child Abuse, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Gen, Panic Attacks, Self-Worth Issues, Swearing, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Trials, Verbal Abuse, im new at posting!, just tommy angst because im a tommy apologist, sorry if i forget some tags!, tommy's trying not to lose it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27863025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cracklesnaple/pseuds/cracklesnaple
Summary: While Tommy is put on trial for a petty prank, he tries not to let the panic consume him. Tommy covers up his terror of being betrayed by the one person he had left, his best friend, his entire world, with loud words and fake laughter.
Relationships: just pain - Relationship
Series: the fall of a hero [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036035
Comments: 26
Kudos: 551





	It's My Fault, I Know I'm Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> please mind the tags everyone!
> 
> also, if any of the content creators say they're uncomfortable with this fic/fics in general, I will take this down!
> 
> title is from Trauma by NF
> 
> [playlist for the fic ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zcWofQLfmQDQ2lYklN8RU?si=qyXiBndGQsmfeXR5ng1Uvw)

Tommy regretted leaving his house that day.

The boy woke up later than usual, and only because there was banging on his front door. He blinked slowly as he woke up, the room still hazy from his sleep-addled eyes. At first, he mistook the pounding to be rain so he paid it no mind as he sat up and stretched, whole body aching from the hunting trip. It was only when Tommy stood up to start his day, already planning to look through what was no doubt a shit preservation job of the meat from the night prior, that the noise registered as someone at his front door.

He threw open the door, ready to tell whoever out there to fuck off, before he saw who it was. Tubbo, his best friend and president of New L’Manburg, stood on the other side of the door, looking positively pissed if his wrinkled suit and furrowed brows were anything to go off of. Behind him were the other members of the nation’s cabinet, Quackity and Fundy, both looking equally as mad as Tubbo. Dread pooled into his stomach even though he didn’t know what was going on. Despite popular belief that he was an aloof individual and let nothing affect him, he hated it when people got angry at him. Not like mildly annoyed at him, that he could handle. What he couldn’t handle was when people looked so upset that they seemed as if they were one word away from swinging.

Not that he thought Tubbo would ever do that to him! Tubbo was his best friend and, even through all the wars and battles they’ve endured, Tommy could count the number of times the boy got rightfully pissed on one hand. And, truth be told, he didn’t really know how the two men acted when they got mad, that was something Tommy had never witnessed. That being said, it didn’t stop Tommy’s heart rate from spiking rapidly, from his palms growing damp and his breath to turn just slightly labored. Their expressions brung up old memories he thought he had long since buried and the newer ones of dark hair, haunted eyes, and stacks of explosives.

“Where the hell have you been, Tommy!” Tubbo’s voice cut like an arrow through his chest (he would know) and Tommy had never heard his voice so poisonous. The boy lost his breath for a split second, heart sinking in his chest but he hid it with a cough.

“What the hell man!” he shouted instead, hiding the shaking words through his signature loudness. “I was trying to sleep!”

“Don’t avoid the subject, Tommy,” Fundy hissed, the fox hybrid’s ears were turned back, a sign that Tommy knew meant the man was angry. His arms were crossed and he had never seen his eyes so stone cold. He didn’t have a good relationship with the fox, he never had, as he was always too jealous of the praise Wilbur bestowed upon his biological son instead of him, the family member who had been with him longer.

“What subject! You guys are the ones barging into my home at fuck knows when and won’t tell me what’s going on!” If there was anything Tommy was good at, it was pretending, particularly pretending to be okay. And his brand of being okay was brash anger and denial until the bitter end. Besides, he had just woken up and now could barely think past the fear coursing through his veins so he genuinely had no idea what the group was talking about.

Fundy opened his mouth, no doubt another harsh retort on his lips, but Tubbo’s outstretched hand stopped the words from coming out. The boy sighed and Tommy’s hit with the sudden realization that his best friend looked more tired than he ever had. He wished he could take the weight of the boy’s shoulders but he knew there was nothing he could do except be there for him when he was needed. _Which wasn’t often these days._

“I just need you to answer the question, please,” Tubbo said gently, but not without impatience laced through it.

“Alright! Creator Above!” he swore. “I was out hunting! Is that suddenly illegal?”

“For two days?”

“It was a long trip! I was getting low on food!” He wasn’t sure when getting food for yourself became a crime but he guessed he should add it to the list of things Tommy wasn’t allowed to do.

“Did you not notice the glaringly obvious obsidian walls surrounding L’Manburg?” Tubbo gaped, eyes narrowed in annoyance and his hands were clenched where they laid against his sides.

Now that the boy had mentioned it, Tommy could see the pitch black walls that bordered the nation. Though not as towering as the original walls that had protected L’Manburg, they were doubly imposing with the light-absorbing mineral. By the time he had gotten to the walls, Tommy could barely stand up properly and was practically dead on his feet, so the newly constructed obsidian walls didn’t register well within his tired mind. He had had a fleeting thought to ask Tubbo about it in the morning, but that was overshadowed by the need to put the meat from the trip away before it spoiled. By the time he was done with that, he had collapsed into bed and was asleep within moments. It wasn’t particularly his fault that he hadn’t noticed or questioned the new walls, his brain was simply too exhausted to take in any new information.

Honestly, if he had known what would be in store for him the moment he set foot outside, he would’ve stayed in bed for the rest of the day- or however long it took for this whole mess to calm down. Snippets of memories of possibly robbing the king of their neighboring lands started to make their way to the forefront of his mind, but Tommy still wasn’t sure if that’s what they were all so angry about. Surely they didn’t think he had constructed these walls as some elaborate prank? They had to know that he very rarely put that kind of effort into his pranks.

“I got in super late,” Tommy admitted. His hands still shook from their place in the pockets of his trousers but his heart had slowed to a reasonable pace. He tried to convince himself that he was fine, that no one was going to hurt him.

Quackity scoffed, the sudden noise from the previously silent man threw Tommy off guard. The man looked uncharacteristically serious, a suit the boy had only ever seen him wear while working with Schlatt was adorned, and his eyes were blank to the point he couldn’t tell what the man was thinking about.

“Enough of the crap, Tommy,” the man sneered and Tommy was painfully reminded of the minutes after the election when he and Schlatt won and he and Wilbur were exiled without a second thought and all he could hear was Schlatt’s laugh, Quackity’s taunting jeers, Wilbur’s panicked breaths, and his own heart breaking into a million pieces as he was forced to flee his nation. “You’ve put us in a shit position, Tommy! You can’t just act like you don’t know what we're talking about!”

“But I don’t!” He didn’t know if the others could hear the desperation in his voice, but they didn’t comment on it. Tommy wasn’t sure what to think of that.

His left arm was suddenly yanked out of his pocket as Tubbo’s hand latched onto his wrist. The other boy began to drag Tommy behind him while the other member of the cabinet said nothing but jogged to catch up with the two. The little bit of panic that had calmed within him as they talked came back in double at the tight grip. He struggled to get out of the grip and pushed back the memories of Pogtopia that threatened to slip through his walls.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in L’Manburg anymore. The skies weren’t clear and blue anymore, the air no longer warm with the tell tales of summer. He’s trapped in cold stone on all sides, unable to see the skies and wracked with an eternal shiver. An unforgiving hand holds his wrist in a vice grip, leaving no room for escape and Tommy can barely hear his thoughts over that sound of his own panic. Of the skipping heartbeat, of the blood rushing through his veins as his brain scream _flee flee flee not safe not safe not safe!_ There’s no room for him to hear anything past his whimpers and pleads of escape from the man holding him hostage.

 _“Please, please.”_ he’d plead and beg to the immovable force that his brother commander had become since the exile. _“Please. I won’t do it again, I promise! I can’t go back there, not again. Please.”_

His insistent begging seemed to barely register in the man’s mind, but he couldn’t stop struggling. Couldn’t stop every cell in his body screaming at him to get away. Tommy wasn’t even sure what he had done wrong! He had just gotten back from getting wood they needed and he came back to Wilbur sitting against the door to their ravine, legs crossed, fingers tapping impatiently on his legs, and deep eye bags that framed eyes darker than he had ever seen from the man before. The boy had known what was happening the moment he saw him, but he just took a deep breath and continued forward. There would be no way of escaping this, there never was, but Tommy could at least try and worm his way into Wilbur’s good graces.

Tommy couldn’t remember what had happened between that moment and to where he was now, being dragged through their unwelcoming cave, shins repeatedly slamming into stone and causing him to stumble. With every trip, the man would strengthen his grip and yank him up until his wrist was raw and bleeding, leaving scars that would never heal (but would never be questioned). As they neared the room that plagued the boy’s nightmares, Tommy struggled harder, regardless of the throbbing of his arm, his shins, his heart.

 _“I’ve told you time and time again to not betray me, Toms,”_ the man’s voice was condescending, as if he were scolding a child. The tone wasn’t something new to Tommy, it had become more and more commonplace since the sanity slipped from Wilbur’s mind. _“But you never seem to listen. And you know what happens when you don’t listen.”_

 _“Please, please.”_ his words had turned into whispers by this point, throat already scratchy and wrecked from begging and he could feel reality slipping around him. They arrived at a seemingly untouched portion of the wall in the very back of the ravine. Wilbur picked up a nearby pickaxe with the hand not locking Tommy in place and broke open a small area. The walls were lined with obsidian, allowing for no light and little air to get through. The only items in the cell room were a threadbare blanket and a chest with a couple pieces of molding bread. Tommy shook his head frantically at the sight, once again tugging against the hold on his arm.

 _“You’ll stay in here until you learn your lesson.”_ And then he was tossed inside like a ragdoll, his elbows hitting the ground with sickening cracks to save his head from hitting the hard mineral. Wilbur placed obsidian in the remaining hold, effectively locking him inside the room. Tommy struggled to his knees, crawling to where the opening was second ago. He banged against the stone, knowing that Wilbur either couldn’t hear him or didn’t care (he never knew which and tried not to think about it) but desperation was clouding his judgement. His nails were shredded as he clawed against the wall, hands bloody and bruised until he could no longer raise his arms.

_“Please, please, please, ple-”_

“You’ve forced us into a shitty position.”

Tubbo’s voice forced him from the unwanted memories but the damage had already been done. Tommy could still feel the unforgiving grip on his wrist, the same one being tugged by Tubbo, could tell the barely healed scars that surrounded the wrist open and the bead of blood that came with it. He could feel the uneven ground of the obsidian, the cold (so cold, too cold) of that fucking room seeped into his bones, causing him to shiver even now in the heat of the sun.

He had never told anybody about that. About what he went through during those ridiculously long months spent hiding, and he never would. The humiliation and desperation spawned from countless hours (days, weeks) spent in that box would never leave him, and he suddenly knew jealousy. Understood the green eyed monster that was envy, as he thought about the new version of his brother. ‘Ghostbur.’ With all the innocence and wit and sarcasm that Tommy knew was his brother, but none of the memories of when he was Wilbur. Not his brother, his family, just Wilbur. The one person, other than Dream, that had put him through hell that would never leave the boy. A weak part of Tommy’s mind screamed and raged in jealousy that his brother got to forget everything, that he had gotten the coward’s way out when Tommy was stuck in a never ending cycle of pain and betrayal.

“Are you even listening?” The question was accompanied with a harsh pull against his wrists. (He was glad he had started the habit of tying pieces of fabric around his wrists to hide those scars.) All three of them were staring at him and he only realized then that they had stopped walking.

Fundy scoffed when Tommy didn’t answer. “It doesn’t matter, Dream’s already gonna be pissed we’re not at the courthouse yet.”

And- wow. Tommy did not like those words one bit. He yanked his arm out of Tubbo’s grasp, the other boy stumbling slightly from the force of it, and stepped back. “You still haven’t told me what happened! Why are you taking me to a courthouse? And why is Dream there?”

“You robbed George’s house and Dream’s royally pissed off about it!” Fundy snapped. “And now we’re trying to clean up the mess you made.” He shoved his finger against Tommy’s chest, the teenager immediately backed up from the almost explosive anger coming from the man.

“How do you know it was me!” Tommy demanded, his survival instincts were in full blast and he turned to the thing he knew how to do best; deny.

“It’s always you, Tommy!” Tubbo accused, and Tommy had to look away from the look of betrayal in his friends’ eyes. “Who else would be stupid enough to rob and grief the King’s vacation home?”

Alright, that was another jab to the heart he was going to shove down and try to forget. Tommy thought, out of everyone in these lands, Tubbo would understand his need for pranks. How, since losing more than half of his discs and most of his family, that was the only way he knew to laugh, to make people happy, even if only for a moment. But, he must’ve thought wrong.

“Well, I think whoever did do it had the right idea!” he shouted instead, drawing more eyes to the group than there had been. “George is a piece of shit! We all know this! You’ve all said how all of this shit is his fault! Why would it suddenly matter now?”

“It matters because Dream took it as a personal offense and is threatening to force L’Manburg into total isolation!”

“Fuck him!”

“Look, Tubbo,” Fundy started, turning to the president. “Tommy isn’t going to listen to what we say so we should just keep moving.”

The other boy nodded and moved to grab onto Tommy’s arm, but he stepped back harshly, breath hitching silently. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled, the words more hostile than intended, but they got the job done. Tubbo pulled his arm back quickly, looking surprised at the ferocity of his tone, but Tommy didn’t care anymore. Exhaustion pulled against his eyelids and added weight to his legs, making them hard to move, but Tommy trudged on, moving before Tubbo could say something. “I’ll follow.”

The rest of the walk was quiet, as quiet as the distrustful glances of the cabinet members and hateful glares thrown his way by the citizens of L’manburg could be. The underhanded remarks crawled underneath his skin and burrowed into his mind, giving his brain more ammunition against itself.

A group was crowded around the outside courthouse and Tommy’s heart dropped into his stomach. There was Dream, standing slightly in front of George as if with the intention to protect the other man. Around them was Nikki, Ranboo, and Karl, the former two looking extremely uncomfortable with being there.

“I don’t even know why I’m here, I haven’t done anything. You dickheads are just desperate to blame someone for your problems.” he aimed the words at George and Dream but all he got in response was the edges of a smirk from behind Dream’s mask.

“Tommy, you’re hurting your case,” Tubbo responded, beckoning the other boy near an open cell. “I’m gonna need you to stand in there.”

The cell seemed smaller than it actually was. It looked like the walls were closing in on it and Tommy knew that if he went in there, they’d crush him. He shook his head. “I’m not going in there. I shouldn’t be punished right now. I haven’t done anything!”

Tubbo sighed and the boy knew it was a lost cause, knew that even his best friend (could he call him that - could he call anyone that) didn’t believe him. But he couldn’t go in there. The second he did they’d all see how weak he really was and he couldn’t have that. Couldn’t let people know just how much their words and actions affected him, no matter how aloof he acted.

“You’re just hurting yourself, Tommy.”

There was a harsh push on his shoulder that sent him stumbling closer to the opening of the cell. George stood behind him (both men wore full netherite despite being the only ones to do so), a wicked grin on his face but his eyes were still covered by the tint of his goggles.

“Don’t push me in there!” He struggled against the sudden onslaught of people attempting to get him into the cell, skin crawling at the places they touched and he avoided flinching at them. Another violent push against his back had him stumble into the back of the cell, hands pressed against cold bricks. Half of the small opening was blocked in with obsidian by George and Tommy could feel his heart stop beating. He willed his mind to stay in the present, to not get thrown into another panic attack so soon after the first one.

There was glass underneath, the only thing keeping him safe from the lava that bubbled beneath his feet and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, _couldn’t breathe._

Quackity claimed to be his lawyer (despite Tommy knowing the man didn’t give a shit about him) and Fundy was placed in the role of flipping the levers. He didn’t want to know what those levers were to but he could see the outlines of the sticky pistons connected to the glass and he knew. Knew that suddenly, everyone he had left to trust was bending to the will of a tyrant and was willing to take away his last life for a petty prank. Did they all suddenly forget he was on his last life? That if enough levers were flicked and he wasn’t able to save himself, he wouldn’t exist anymore? Or, maybe they did know that and simply didn’t care.

All of the sudden, Tubbo stood in front of the iron bars, trying to look apologetic but Tommy couldn’t tell if it was real or just an act anymore.

“I’m on your side here,” he reassured.

“Then let me out of this fucking cell!” He could feel the walls getting closer, the lights dimming, and the warmth of the day fade into an unrelenting cold. His teeth chattered against his will and he tried to warm himself up by rubbing his hands together, though he knew it was pointless. “You can’t keep me in this box!” Tommy shouted through chattering teeth and he swore he could see his breath in the air. “I have human rights!”

As Tubbo made his way back to the podium, he replied, “You voided those rights when you burned and robbed George’s property.”

Tommy stared at his oldest friend, eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned in an expression of disbelief. “You can’t fucking take away human rights!”

Tubbo sighed and ran a hand across his head. “Just shut up. That’s not why we’re here right now.”

“Even if I did do it, which I didn’t,” he started, “how do we know he even saw it! The man’s a little faulty, no one can deny that! He could’ve been seeing shit!” Deny, deny, deny, _deny._

He could hear the faint whispers Ranboo was sending him, telling him to comply, but the words were barely a blip on his radar. Tommy could feel reality slipping away with each second he stood in the goddamned cell, and this was the only way he knew how to get out of shit! Yelling and pretending for long enough more often than not resulted in the other party giving up, at least for the time being. So Tommy was doing what he’d been taught would work to get him the fastest result to get him out of this building and away from people before he spiraled into a full blown attack.

“Is that a cause for a lever, Mr. President,” Fundy’s snide voice remarked from the other end of the courthouse and Tommy stared at the man, fear crawling up his throat.

“Yes, I think it is.”

And Tommy felt the last pieces of hope crumble into ash and scatter in the cold wind. Looks like there was no getting out of this one. He supposed there were worse ways to go, than for him to give up all of his lives for a nation that seemed to no longer care about him.

“Actually,” George’s voice cuts through the scatter of the rest of them, and everyone immediately quiets down. “There was another name rumored to have been involved with the destruction of my property.”

Tommy’s heart plummeted and he begs _nonononono._ He couldn’t let Ranboo get caught in the crossfires of his stupidity. The only reason the other boy helped him was because he pressured him into it. Ranboo didn’t deserve any punishment when Tommy was the idiot that always dragged others into his messes.

But George was unaware of Tommy's panic as he turned towards the boy in question. Ranboo sat next to Nikki, his crown resting against black and white hair and, even though Tommy had only known the other boy for a few short days, he had never seen his multicolored eyes look so scared.

“Ranboo,” George started once in front of the boy. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I-uh, um, I,” Ranboo stuttered, looking helpless under the scrutiny of everyone in the room and barely put up a defense when the king dragged him into the cell across from him. Their eyes met within seconds and Tommy recognized the fear the other felt, knew that he felt it with every minute he was awake, and he had made up his mind. If he was going to go down anyways, he’d make sure no one else got hurt.

“Alright!” his voice silenced the room, a fact he would’ve made fun of them for if not for the situation. “I did it! In my defense, though, it was the perfect crime! No one saw it and I got away with it! But-”

“Do you have that on record, Fundy?” the president asked, cutting off Tommy’s defense. His teeth wouldn’t stop chattering and his fingers were frozen to the touch when he tried to warm his arms.

“Can’t you see that they’re biased towards me!” he tried one last defense, knowing it was his last resort to get through the thick skulls of the cabinet. “George and Dream have always been against me, since the beginning! Even before L’Manburg came around! And his retaliation with the walls is ridiculous!”

Another lever flipped, this time by the hands of Tubbo.

“I came clean now, so I don’t see why I should be punished for it!”

“Tommy,” Tubbo’s voice trailed off with uncertainty. “I’ve been advised to banish you.”

“What the fuck.” Tommy’s voice was quiet but strong, the chattering stopping at the sudden news. He couldn’t - wouldn’t. He had only made it through the last banishment because he had Wilbur by his side (at the beginning), he couldn’t be along. Not now. Not when his thoughts were too loud and paranoia settled like a thick blanket across his mind all the time. Tommy couldn’t end up like his brother, he refused to.

“That’s a,” Tubbo started again, no longer meeting Tommy’s eyes. “That’s an extreme measure, and I hope we can appease both sides with something different. Tommy, I’ll be putting you on at least two weeks of probation.”

Probation? What the hell did that mean? You can’t just strip someone’s power away like they’re a child losing their recess privileges.

“Along with that, he will have to report to Fundy at the end of every day with what he did.”

Jeering laughs filled the rooms from both sides as they looked at him as if he were an animal in a zoo. As if his life were really something to laugh at. Tommy looked to the edge of the cell, not bothering to glance at any of them, already knowing none of them were on his side. (But was that really so hard to process? Nobody was ever on his side.) He could feel the cold return tenfold to the point he could barely hold back the violent shivers taking over him. He hid the clanking of his teeth behind his lips and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, now understanding what Wilbur meant when he said he was constantly cold.

“His probation will start today. But first,” and Tommy wanted this day to be over, this year, this life to be over because it had never been kind to him and every time peace started to look reachable, the rug was pulled out from underneath him. “Were you the only one to participate in griefing the king’s house?”

All eyes made their way over to L’Manburg’s newest citizens once again and Tommy didn’t hesitate with his answer this time.

“Yes, I was! He wasn’t there! It was the perfect crime, I’m telling you.”

There was a long moment where Tommy thought they weren’t going to believe him, but then George seemed to accept the lie. Out of nowhere, the final lever was pulled with those words and he only had a split second to pull his water bucket out of his inventory to stop from hitting the lava. His heart pounded against his throat and he struggled to regain his bearings. The laughs were back again from above him but his only thought was getting up and away. To get somewhere safe (nowhere is safe) and away from people.

He struggled out of the pit using spare pieces of cobblestone he had thrown into his inventory for some reason. By the time he got out, everyone except for the president and cabinet had trickled out and Ranboo had been let out of the cell. The three of them seemed to be in the middle of a conversation so Tommy attempted to quietly make his way out of the building. He was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder which he immediately shrugged off violently, wanting everyone to stop touching him for _one goddamned second._

Behind him was Fundy, someone he had always tried to get along with and learn to like but it never happened. Now, standing there with a self-satisfied sneer on his lips, sharp teeth poking out as if he had just had a successful hunt, Tommy hated him even more than he ever had before.

“Where’re you going,” he laughed. “You have homework to do.”

Tommy had officially had enough of people pushing him around today. “Get me a book and quill, bitch, and I’ll do it.”

Fundy looked surprised for a moment before his eyes narrowed in annoyance, lips quirked into a snarl that Tommy copied. After the silent treatment from both of them, the man pulled out an empty book and took a quill laying on a table in the courthouse. He shoved them towards Tommy and the boy ripped them out of his hands. He noticed Quackity and Tubbo staring at the pair from behind but he refused to acknowledge them. Tommy wrote down something dumb and childish, signed it with a ferocity he didn’t know he had, and threw the now glowing book at Fundy’s chest.

He stayed only long enough for Fundy to read what he had written before he was off. His hands rubbed against his arms to stave off the never-ending chill and he yelled at the three to stop following him as he walked. The walk to his home seemed to take years and by the time he had gotten to the door, he felt equally exhausted and nauseous.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this one kind of dragged a bit! I feel like it's pretty similar to the first part in the series but I have major brain rot and needed to right the actual trial! Also, that stream yesterday, am I right??? Like, ouch, I didn't NOT give them permission to rip out my heart on a Wednesday!! Part of me wishes I had waited to post the first part until after the meeting because *angst potential* but we're rolling with it now! also, fundy's age is around his irl age because it makes more sense for this particular story. Please let me know if the flashback scene was confusing too! the italicized quotes were representing the things being spoken in a flashback but i didn't want to put the whole scene into italics because it's more like tommy is slipping from reality more than "remembering," if that makes sense!
> 
> yes, i have decided i'm a tommy apologist first and a person second xD and how do we all feel about the possible ranboo and tommy friendship?? im all for it honestly
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/cracklesnapple1)
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy and if you did please leave a kudos and a comment! all the comments on the first part literally own my heart, you guys are so sweet! <3


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